Mythos
by elinorofealdor
Summary: The Doctor takes Lily to the Mediterranean sometime between 4,000-3,500 BCE. Neither one of them expect to meet anyone they know there, but the universe seems to have other plans. Rated M for (brief) scenes of violence. First chapter is Lily's history until now(ish); story begins in chapter 2.
1. Lily's History

Lily Connors is an Immortal, born in 1596 in Ireland but shortly after her sister's birth in 1598 the family moved to reunite with relatives in Scotland. After the death both of his first wife and her initial intended, she was betrothed to Duncan MacLeod before his untimely death. Distraught by the loss of a lifelong friend and husband-to-be, Lily and her sister traveled back to Ireland where they were both killed by marauders one night returning from a ball near Galway.

Lily awoke to her sister dead, and herself covered in blood, their bodies dumped off the side of the road. She was found by an immortal, Adamo, who claimed to be an Italian courtier travelling the isles. He was, in fact, Methos (the oldest living immortal, even then) and he took her under his care and tutelage. They fell in love, like you do, but Methos had never been with an immortal woman for more than a couple decades and Lily continually had a nagging feeling that Duncan was the man she was always intended for. When Lily received intelligence in the 1770s that Duncan was alive and immortal, she and Methos parted. However, due to other adventures, travels, events, etc, Lily didn't actually find Duncan until 1994. They reunited, and then Methos made his reappearance in her life less than two years later. Duncan and Lily as a couple did not last - they cared deeply for each other, but centuries apart living different lives brought them to the conclusion that they were not meant to be. Still, they remain close friends.

The connection between Lily and Methos, however, has always been undeniable - even when they try to deny it themselves. Then came the near-apocalypse with Kronos, epic romance engaged, and they lived more-or-less-happily ever after... (see story: Lost in Each Other)

Until the Doctor appears (see story: Entrapment). Well, more accurately until Lily is abducted by an alien collective who choose her for companion as appreciation for the Doctor saving the universe. A lot. As they dangle the lives of Methos, Duncan, and Lily agree to travel with the Doctor, she acquiesces rather than risk their lives. Whatdownsides choice is that they managed to select someone who is both what the Doctor needs, and what he wants. And she, in time, cannot ignore how drawn she is to him.

Current Lily Connors Stories (In Chronological Order):  
Lost in Each Other  
Entrapment  
Mythos  
False Regeneration

Upcoming Stories:  
Revenge of the Horsemen (10th Doctor)  
Stolen Thoughts / The Watchers (10th Doctor)  
Only Human (10th Doctor)  
The Last Immortal (10th Doctor &amp; Methos)  
Reunited (11th Doctor)  
Planet of the Angels (11th Doctor &amp; River Song)  
Don't Lose Your Head(less Monks) (11th Doctor &amp; Methos)  
Captivity (MCU Loki &amp; Thor)  
Captivity: Asgard (MCU Loki, Thor &amp; 11th Doctor)  
A Life Worth Saving (MCU Loki, Thor &amp; 11th Doctor)  
Don't Cross the Mages (MCU Loki, Thor &amp; 10th Doctor)  
Return of the Angels (MCU Loki, Thor, 11th Doctor &amp; Methos)


	2. Chapter 1

"So you're telling me you were there when Vesuvius erupted."  
"Not just there, made it happen."  
"Right. You caused Pompeii to be destroyed." The skepticism in her voice underplayed the curiosity. Though Lily and the Doctor had been traveling for nearly four years, she knew far from everything about him. His attempts at vagueness failed to silence her questioning (usually). Still, there remained centuries of each others' lives they had yet to learn and understand.  
"So what, you ignited a fireball or bomb of some sort?"  
"Sort of."  
"From where?"  
"Inside Vesuvius."  
Lily nodded, her lips pursed. "Mmmm-hmmm. And how exactly did you get inside Vesuvius?"  
"We were, ah, being chased."  
"By?" The Doctor's voice lowered. He refused to reduce himself to mumbling, but was very near to it. Lily took much of what he told her in stride (after all she'd seen by now what she hadn't seen she took on faith, and her trust in him), but he knew when she was getting skeptical. "Giant rock-lava beings... pyroviles."  
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh." She said, her voice toning upwards on the 'huh' as if to say, "Riiiiiiiight."  
"Look, believe me or not, it's true. I'd take you there for proof but we might end up buried under several thousand tons of molten lava, and if that weren't the case we might end up on top of the largest pile of steaming ash in history."  
"Yeah, I'll pass." She came up beside him, wanting to wrap her arms around his waist, but refraining. On occasion she blurred the lines between platonic interactions and something more, later feeling guilty both for putting the Doctor in an awkward position and ceasing for a time, however brief, to forget or ignore the reason she was on this voyage in the first place. Something about this conversation turned him surly. Not on the surface, but this chat clearly struck a nerve.  
"You know, I do believe you," she stated, settling for putting one hand on his back as she stood next to him.  
He turned his head from the screen and looked down into her shining eyes. She gave him a half-smile, an apology for joking on a subject he cared not to joke about. Her instincts about him bordered on mind-reading at times, which worried him. He cleared all doubts and frustration from his mind. Her genuine apology deserved genuine forgiveness, and she would see it in his eyes if he didn't give it to her. "I know."  
He smiled at her, warm and friendly, and she returned the smile. He turned his head back to the screen. "Now, when we land, what should we see first?"  
The plan was to take her to see the Mediterranean in the days before it was torn by millennia of wars.  
"Well, that depends," she said with a playful note in her voice. "Are there going to be people around, or are you taking me back to Genesis?"  
It was a game they played when he told her either where or when they were headed, but not both. At times he shared the intended destination, or they decided together where to travel, but he also liked to surprise her. Seeing the expression on her face when she first beheld a new time and place, he felt the reveal through her and it gave him a reason to keep traveling. Not to mention how her wonder, joy, and fascination mesmerized him.  
He sighed, faking exasperation. "Yes, there will be people. Nice, civilized people who haven't really pinpointed the ideas of organized religion yet. At least not the concepts that include holy wars."  
"Oh goody, you're taking me to see the heathens." She winked at him, and he beamed back. The momentary awkwardness of the previous conversation no longer existed.  
Lily grabbed hold of one of the bars next to the main controls as the Doctor ran around banging and pounding bits of the Tardis into submission for landing. She giggled at his childlike way of manipulating the Tardis, knowing full well it would be a smoother ride if they both piloted, but whenever he wanted to keep their ultimate destination a secret he insisted on piloting alone. As the Tardis slammed into the ground, the Doctor slipped and tumbled back onto Lily, knocking them both to the ground. Laughing like a pair of children who ran down a hill and tumbled to the bottom with no marks to show for it, he leapt up and took Lily's hand, pulling her to standing and a brief embrace.  
"Sorry about that! Forgot the final stabilizers." He winked at her and she wondered for a second if he really did, or if his fall on top of her wasn't entirely an accident.  
She blinked away the thought as the Doctor ran to the door, a polite doorman waiting to perform his duty. She sauntered towards him, pausing at the threshold to offer him a small bow. He bowed in return as he said, "My lady, may I present the Bronze Age," and opened the door.  
"Thank you, my good man," she replied as she stepped out of the Tardis and onto well-packed sand.

No matter how many times she stepped into new place or time, it still seemed magical, nearly impossible. The Tardis had landed in a bustling 'street.' People milled about looking at merchandise being sold by nomad traders. As the Doctor stepped from the Tardis, closing the door, Lily inhaled the scent of the surrounding area. He loved how she always drank in a new place, smelling and tasting what it offered. Lily teetered for a second, relishing the scent of sand, linen, camels, smoking food and incense. Her eyes closed, she took a few tentative steps forward.  
The Doctor followed behind, his eyes darting between the merchants and buyers and Lily as she moved forward into the pedestrian-laden lane. Though he was aware of other smells around him, all his nose sensed was the smell of her. The scent of her hair and lotion, and her natural aroma, nearly intoxicated him whenever he allowed himself to smell them. She turned around to him abruptly and he had to mask the look of near ecstasy from letting her scent affect him.  
"Are you sure this is the Bronze Age?"  
Her genuine curiosity ignited him and he tried not to prattle on.  
"Well, near enough. Maybe a little earlier than I intended, but we're somewhere around thirty-five hundred B.C.E. I should think."  
They walked hand in hand down the lane, trading insights and jokes as they absorbed this new place.  
"And they're not all heathens, you know. Already there are monasteries and such. Not as they appear later, and they'll all be destroyed someday, but they exist."  
Lily knew most of this already, but enjoyed the sound of his voice. She nodded, half-listening to him. "Even at the start of civilization people need comfort and sanctuary, a home to come back to."  
"Exactly, and more than that, people to share certain beliefs with - Lily?" He felt a tug on his hand as she stopped walking. "What is it?"  
Her eyes fixed on a well a hundred yards away where a group of men talked. The Doctor felt her pulse quicken as her breathing slowed. She had a knack for sensing when something was about to go wrong, but this felt different. This felt like recognition, and cold fear.  
"Impossible," she breathed.  
The men at the well were engaged in heated discussion about something, and within a few seconds a fight broke out.  
"Stay here," the Doctor said in his best attempt at maintaining a firm yet caring tone. Though he regretted telling her to stay and leaving her standing alone, his sense of anti-violence kicked in and he rushed to the tussle.  
The men were arguing, calling each other names. As the Doctor stepped in to try and calm them down, a darker-skinned man jabbed a discreet knife towards another man. The target of the stab moved back quickly, though not quite fast enough. The dagger penetrated perhaps an inch into the man's right side. His grey eyes widened in surprise. When the Doctor put a hand out to separate the men, he barely touched the chest of the wounded one before the man darted past and began running. The Doctor struggled to hold the other men back, but as a crowd gathered he was able to subdue them enough to begin assessing the situation.  
Lily remained, standing in the street watching the whole exchange in a haze. When the grey-eyed man was stabbed, she gasped, her body flinching just as his did. When he fled from the crowd she knew she should run - back to the Tardis, off the street, anywhere but where she stood. Yet her body would not comply and so she stood exactly where she'd stopped as the man ran toward her. Others cleared a path as he ran, but she stood still. As he neared her, his eyes darted to her face. When their eyes connected Lily almost fainted, but then he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. Without thinking, she followed.


	3. Chapter 2

"Alright now, calm down. He's gone. What's this all about?"  
The Doctor interrogated the men remaining at the well who calmed enough to listen to him for a moment.  
"He is a liar, and an impossible man," responded one of the men.  
The one with the bloodied dagger had moved behind the other two men with him, seething in silence.  
"Right. You want to clarify 'impossible' for me?" The Doctor huffed.  
Another man replied this time, his dark brown eyes mixed with fear and loathing. "He does not tire as the rest of us do. Though his pale complexion should bake in the sun and heat, though he drinks and eats less than us, he remains strong. Men stronger than him have died on our journey thus far, and yet he fares better than any. We have never seen anyone so resilient."  
"So you're trying to kill this man for staying alive?" The small crowd murmured disapprovingly. The Doctor ignored them. "Has he done anything to you? Brought and harm to you?"  
The men bowed their heads in defeat, except the one who pulled the dagger. He stepped forward now, hazel eyes shimmering in the late-morning sun. His defiant anger had returned. "No. He has fought to protect us, hid us cleverly against raiders. He is cunning. Yet he is not one of us. He is something... different."  
Though the man did not say it, the Doctor heard what lay behind the 'different.' To this man, and presumably his accomplices, 'different' in this case meant 'more.' And 'more' meant something possibly dangerous to these people, but potentially interesting to the Doctor.  
"Look, I don't know what sort of mission you're on, and I don't care. The man you just stabbed has helped you and has done nothing wrong, and you admit this. Now hear me: I have seen people so different it would make your minds explode. Different does not equate to bad or evil. It is, simply, 'different.' So if you continue to pursue this man you'll have to answer to me, and that is not something you want."  
The pitch of the Doctor's voice lowered as he said this, and when he finished speaking the men looked on him with such abject fear he almost laughed. However, his sincerity to protect the stabbed innocent held him in check. The three men stood facing the Doctor for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, all three turned and walked off presumably the way they had come. The Doctor looked around the crowd, their expressions ranging from confusion to appreciation. He stopped a violent crime from escalating and rid the marketplace of the instigators. How he convinced the men baffled some, but the plain fact was now everyone could continue with their lives.  
As people dispersed, returning to their shopping and selling, the Doctor looked back to where Lily had been standing. Not seeing her, he began running back down the lane.

Lily followed the grey-eyed man through the marketplace in a trance. When he pulled her into an empty tent near the end of the row, she collapsed on her knees and released his hand. He stopped and turned to her; the apology and concern in his eyes almost caused her to break into sobs. However, her attention was drawn to the hand clutching his bleeding side. She reached toward him and he recoiled, but not fast enough.  
"I'm alright," he said, though he made no further move away from her.  
"Your blood-soaked shirt says otherwise." She raised his muslin shirt, revealing the wound. "It's not too deep, but it needs to be cleaned and stitched. I can do it in a few minutes."  
At this he did recoil. "Please, no."  
Lily looked up at him, mistaking the fear in his eyes as fear of her. "I'm not going to hurt you. That wound needs to be..."  
She stopped, frozen at the realization.  
"I'm sorry. I know you want to help, but the men out there, the ones who stabbed me, we've been traveling and they're not too keen on my resiliency. Not that I believe their suppositions that something is wrong with me, but I wouldn't want you to-"  
"Lily!"  
They both jumped at the calling voice. The grey-eyed man looked around the tent for a weapon, but Lily stopped him.  
"It's alright," she said in as soothing a tone as she could muster. "He's with me. He won't hurt you."  
The grey-eyed man seemed wary, but stood still, the stab wound appearing to finally affect him.  
Lily called out, "In here, Doctor."  
A few seconds later the Doctor swept into the tent, his eyes concerned yet blazing. Lily jumped in before he could start interrogating her erstwhile captor.  
"The wound isn't bad, but it's deep. He needs a few stitches, and I'm guessing to be somewhere not here."  
The grey-eyed man sank to his knees and then to sitting, obviously now in pain.  
"Doctor, would you go get your bag? Please?"  
Her 'please' was so entreating he nearly left, but he sensed something that worried him.  
"I'm not sure I should leave you alone," the Doctor replied, giving the 'patient' a circumspect eye. He leaned in to whisper to her, their charge now looking at his wound and groaning in pain. "He took you out of the street. He could have kept going."  
"No, he couldn't," she interrupted. "He needed to stop, and he didn't take me by force. I followed. I had to."  
"Why did you-"  
"Bag first. Explanations later." Her tone was beyond firm. She commanded him, and though he felt anxious about the entire situation, he could not deny her nor leave the man here alone to run off and possibly die. Not before he found out Lily's connection to him.  
"Alright," he said, standing up straight. "I'll get the bag." The Doctor looked at the man as Lily eased him back to lie flat. He moaned, clenching his jaw against the pain. Lily looked to the Doctor and nodded. Reluctantly, the Doctor left the tent.

Lily stared intently into the man's eyes. Eyes she knew all too well. Yet these eyes differed from her memories. They were younger, lighter, untouched by thousands of years of life. She knew this man, but not as a mortal.  
"I apologize for stealing you out of the street, though I did not expect you to come so easily."  
"Yes, well, I'm full of surprises." She smiled at him.  
"I am Methos."  
She tried not to flinch at his name.  
"And you are Lily... is that right?"  
She nodded, unable to speak for the moment for fear of bursting into tears.  
"And that man you're with, he's a physician."  
"Of sorts."She reached across his splayed body to a pile of linens. Pulling out a sheet, she began ripping pieces off it.  
"And his name?"  
"He's just the Doctor."  
"Is that how you know him?"  
She gritted her teeth. Even this young, and mortal, his inquisitiveness could be infuriating. "He's the Doctor. Plain and simple. That's how anyone knows him."

When the Doctor returned with the bag, Lily had prepped Methos for stitches. He lay on his back, shirt pulled up, as Lily held a piece of linen on the wound to slow the bleeding. Without a word the Doctor pulled out a bottle of alcohol, a needle and thread. As he threaded the needle, Lily took the alcohol. She looked the man in the eyes as she spoke, as full of compassion as the Doctor had ever heard her be.  
"This will hurt, but it will clean the wound."  
The man nodded, his eyes never leaving Lily's face. She poured some of the liquid onto a clean piece of linen and then squeezed it over the wound. Methos flinched and inhaled sharply, but did not cry out.  
Something in the way his eyes never left Lily made the Doctor uneasy. After holding the alcohol-soaked linen on the wound for a minute, she reached for the threaded needle. She seemed not to notice her shaking hand until the Doctor held her wrist.  
"I'll do it." He drew her gaze and held it, warning her to calm down.  
She nodded and took one of Methos' hands in her own. Shifting her gaze, she locked eyes with Methos. "The Doctor's going to stitch you up proper. If you need to, squeeze my hand." She smiled at him as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Trust me, I can take it."  
"Right then," the Doctor said as he readied to begin stitching. "This will hurt, but try not to flinch. A dozen stitches I'd say and that'll be all."  
Methos nodded, still fixed on Lily as if she were the one speaking.  
"Then you can tell us all about what brought you here and caused you to snatch my friend."  
"I - Aaaaaahhhhh!" Methos yelled in pain as the Doctor made his first pass with the needle.  
Lily shot the Doctor a look. He shrugged. "First one always hurts the most."  
She glared at him before turning back to Methos. She put a hand on his forehead to still him, and gulped at the heat emanating from him. As the Doctor continued stitching, Lily pulled another strip of linen and used it to wipe Methos' brow. He lay still, closing his eyes with the final few stitches. When he did, Lily cast the Doctor an uneasy look. After closing, Lily wrapped more linen around his waist and the wound area, tying it off as the Doctor packed up.  
As he was about to question Methos, she cut him off. "Doctor, can we talk outside for a moment?"  
The look she cast him did not ask. Nodding, he stepped out of the tent. Lily turned back to Methos whose breathing had become somewhat laboured.  
She ran her thumb over the back of his hand as she spoke. "We're going to step outside and try to find somewhere safe for you to go. Stay here?"  
Once again, her question was only punctuated for show. Like the Doctor, Methos picked up on it and was too weak (and more than a little curious about why she seemed to care for him) to argue.  
"Yes," he murmured, but added as she rose to leave, "At some point I'd like to know why you didn't fight me... you just followed."  
"I have faith that the universe takes me where I'm supposed to be," she said, stepping out into the sunlight and blinking away tears.

She took a deep breath before walking a few paces to where the Doctor stood. His face was commanding, expectant, the face he used to demand explanation. Though it made others nervous or terrified to look into those eyes, and urged them to confess, Lily had been with him long enough to develop somewhat of an immunity and in this particular circumstance she had little desire to tell him the truth, for now at least. Fighting the urge to cry, her response followed that of many overwhelmed by emotion. She laughed.  
His eyes darkened, thinking that she laughed at him, but when she opened her eyes, still giggling, he saw the turmoil just below the surface. Rather than chide her, he put a hand on her head and smoothed her hair. "So, are you going to tell me?"  
Lily stopped laughing and sighed. "Not yet." Her face was serious again.  
"I will, but not now, and don't cheat by asking him. He can't tell you anything." She added with a bemused scowl, "And he's inquisitive enough."  
"Spoilers?"  
She scrutinized his expression, looking for signs that he'd figured out what she was avoiding.  
Seeing none, she replied, "Something like that. He needs to be taken somewhere safe, a temple or something."  
"Already ahead of you." She raised an eyebrow. "While I was getting the bag, I used the Tardis to scan for settlements. There's a temple just north of here, about two miles over a couple hills and through some woods."  
"You got all of that from the Tardis?" She mused skeptically.  
"Well, I might have asked someone on the way back."  
"Good on you then, mister resourceful. Let's go."  
The Doctor tugged her sleeve, pulling her back to him. "Hold on a moment, Lily. You know he's hurt." She knew, and in the glance she threw him when she felt how hot Methos' head was he knew it, too. "It isn't just the knife."  
She nodded. "It was poisoned, wasn't it."  
"Yes."  
Lily flinched, but kept stability in her voice. "How long?"  
"A few days most likely. I can use the blood on the needle to analyze it and we may be able to stop it, or at least slow it down, but Lily-"  
She put a finger on his lips. "No. No 'but's right now. One thing at a time. Let's get him to this temple and then you can come back to the Tardis to analyze and find something to help."  
He didn't want to press her further, but still felt unsettled. He held her hand, looking into her eyes for assurance that she would tell him what she knew, preferably before it got them into too much trouble. "You know if I didn't trust you wholeheartedly, and you know what it means for me to say that, we wouldn't still be here."  
She stared back into his eyes, daring him to cross her. "And if I didn't trust you, we never would have come here at all."  
Her words stung him and he had no response for her. Apparently she didn't require one. Lifting her heels, she stretched up to kiss his cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer for an embrace. Reflexively hugging her in return, she whispered in his ear. "I trust you, as much as I've ever trusted anyone. No matter what you hold back from me, I will always trust you, so long as you trust me."  
Pulling away, she waited for his response. He stepped back and took in the sight of her. No one outright asked for his trust, and no one had ever been more deserving of it. He did trust her, completely, he just didn't hold with telling people how he really felt. However, as became apparent over these past few years, Lily wasn't 'people,' she was her unique self. The Doctor brushed back a strand of her hair, then took one of her hands.  
"I'm sorry. You're right." Feeling an urge stir deep inside he knew should be resisted, he relented to her will. "We'll do this however you want."  
"Thank you," she said, finally smiling at him. He would do nearly anything for that smile. "I promise, when the time is right, I'll tell you. Just please don't badger me about it until then."  
"All right," he agreed. "To the temple then?"  
Lily nodded. "To the temple."


	4. Chapter 3

"How long have you known him?" Methos sat beside Lily on the stone steps of the temple. His limp had grown more pronounced and he had to slowly bring himself down to her level. She gazed out toward the moon, beyond it, wanting more than anything to escape the conversation she knew approached. Still, she could not avoid it, nor could she deny herself the chance to speak to her former lover, even if he didn't know her yet.

"A few years."

"Why did you start traveling with him?" She shot him a look. "I'm sorry. But it seems, from what I've observed, there's something under your friendship... a barrier. Some reason you don't entirely want to be with him."

Lily sighed. Damn his intuitiveness. She was sure her occasional regret or desire to be back home than traveling with the Doctor rarely showed through. But here and now, finally confronted with the man for whom she had done all this in the first place, a smidge of her resentment at the whole situation came through. Most people would not have caught it, but she knew all too well that Methos was not most people. He wasn't even some people. He was, like the Doctor, inherently unique, and when it wasn't so maddening (and even times when it was), she loved him for it.

"There's not really. Not usually. And it's nothing to do with him."

"And as for my question?"

She kept her focus out, beyond the moon and into the stars, forcing herself to keep looking forward and pretend the man next to her was a stranger and not the man for whose protection she now sat here. "I made a deal to save someone I love. I was abruptly and inexplicably 'recruited' to travel with him. There was no way out of it really, a 'do this or everyone you love dies' sort of situation, so I created the terms myself."

"Do you regret it?"

"Almost never," she replied truthfully. The admission pained her, not just out of guilt for enjoying her time with the Doctor, but because her admission, and acceptance of it, was delivered to the very man she left behind to save. She loved Methos. They had been divided before for over two-hundred years and survived, coming back even more in love than before. Yet this was different. Before the decision to separate had been mutual. She made this choice alone, and in making that choice met the only man more unique than Methos, who exposed her to a life she could have never imagined. A man capable of something she never thought possible: churning up stronger emotions inside her than even Methos could. And this terrified her.

"Yet you still miss the man you left behind."

Hearing those words come from Methos, even a Methos who had no idea what his future held, no concept that it held her, cracked Lily's facade. One tear slipped out, rolling down her cheek.

"Yes," she managed to eke out before her shoulders began shaking. When Methos leaned over and kissed her forehead she began to sob. As his arms wrapped around her, she lost control. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Ignoring his wound and the pain all through his side, he enveloped her in his arms until she was on his lap, her head buried in his shoulder, her hands wound through his hair, weeping as though someone had died. Where his desire to comfort her came from, he didn't know. He'd known her for merely two days, but something about her drew him in. The few times she was not in his presence he felt an emptiness he couldn't explain. As she wept uncontrollably in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to soothe her, to assure her.

"He doesn't know, does he? The man you left to save." She shook her head meekly, still crying. "If it were me, and I know this must be little consolation, but if it were, and a woman such as you sacrificed what you have to save my life, I... well, I would feel unworthy."

Another wracking sob. He smoothed her hair with one hand.

"But I would be confident that you did what you felt was right, and I wouldn't want you to feel guilty for leaving me. I would only want you to be safe, and to come back to me someday, if you could."

She shuddered and uttered a small gulp and then went still. After a few deep breaths she pulled back from him. Her tear-stained face gazed at him with an expression he couldn't define. If he were 'her' Methos, he would have seen a woman so conflicted and yet deeply in love it would have made him weep.

"You mean that?"

He nodded, still smoothing her hair. "I do."

She gazed into him, stirring something inside he never felt before. She smiled and he thought his heart would cease to beat. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you," and for a second he was sure his heart did stop. Before he could respond, she slipped off his lap and walked back up the stairs, leaving him in stunned silence.

The Doctor sat at a table, trying to suss out the information of the past day. Lily had made some agreement with the man in their care to refrain from using his real name. She introduced him to the monks at the temple as Adam, and both she and the man referred to him as that. The poison in 'Adam's' body was powerful. Had he been a timelord, the Doctor might have been able to cure him. As a human, he could only delay the inevitable and hope to suppress the suffering. He hadn't explicitly told Lily the man was dying, but she seemed to know. She also tended to him far more than he was used to seeing her do, which unnerved him. However she knew him, the man was evidently pivotal in her life, and she loved him.

As for the man, he seemed to have adapted to her care with ease. Though at times he appeared uneasy, or unsure of her intentions, one genuine smile from Lily and he became putty. He may not truly know her yet, but he sensed their connection and at times it seemed as though he'd known her forever. This not only troubled the Doctor, it inspired an emotion he almost never felt: jealousy.

When Lily came into the room he was lost in thought. Still, as she approached the scent of her freshly cleaned hair invaded his senses. She ran a sandalwood comb through her wavy locks, her gaze distant, contemplative. She sat on the edge of the bench across from him, faced out toward the window. For a moment he simply observed her, trying to gauge her mood while also enjoying looking at her.

Lily felt the Doctor watching her but had no desire to speak. The longing for a moment of companionable silence held her tongue, keeping her from speaking. Soon the Doctor's intuitive emotional compass would point him toward the start of this conversation, but Lily was content to let him broach the subject. She'd held back out of fear and, briefly, hope - hope that Methos could be healed. Now she knew nothing could be done and in a few days he would die, and then revive for the first of who knew how many times. All she could hope for now was to comfort him as long as he lived. Then she and the Doctor would continue their journey together and Lily would try to pretend this event never occurred. That hope was almost as vain as Methos surviving the poison, but for now Lily held on to it. Unfortunately, the Doctor had been less than forthcoming in explaining what the poison's full effect would be.

"Lily," he began, unsure how to explicate details of the poison. "There's something..."

"I know," she cut in. "It's time."

"I didn't mean-"

"No, it's alright."

While he wanted to tell Lily about the drug, his curiosity won out; that and the fear that if he didn't inquire about Adam's real identity now, Lily may not reveal it. At least not until they were gone from this place, and he hated the idea of not knowing. "Who is he?"

Lily set the comb on the table, tilting her head back with exasperation. After exhaling a deep breath she turned around to face the Doctor, now bowing her head. She would not look at him yet. "You know."

He stared, puzzled, at her lowered face. She looked up at him with eyes that spoke of her loss, her sacrifice. For a second silence reigned, then the Doctor rose and began pacing the floor.

"No...no...no...no no no no..." He chanted across the room as Lily's penetrating eyes followed his movements.

He wanted to run. In that moment he wanted it more than he had in ages, wanted to run with Lily as far from this place and time as possible, but she would not leave now; she would not leave him. Now he understood the underlying fury when before he challenged her trust in him and why she tended to the man every moment she could, and why she hid his name. He wanted to run, until he looked at her again.

The man was going to die and it would break her heart. If he fought her at all it would only make the situation worse, and he could not cause her more anguish. He'd already done enough of that. One look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

The Doctor sat beside Lily, attempting to remain strong as he gazed into her pained blue eyes.

"Methos," he uttered, and she nodded. Putting an arm around her, she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lily. I am so, so sorry."

She remained silent a minute longer wanting to assure him it would be all right, that she forgave him for bringing them here, but the words wouldn't come. Somewhat because the assurance and forgiveness would be lies. In time this new rift between herself and the Doctor might heal, likely would, but not yet.

"Lily," the concern, tinged with regret and sorrow, pierced her as he spoke. "Lily, please, if there's anything I can do, tell me."

She moved her head to look him in the eyes. Part of her hated him right now, but deep inside that hate was merely an undercurrent to her true feelings. "Tell me how you really feel about me," she almost blurted out, but centuries of self-control held her in check. Swallowing back what she desired to say, Lily stated what pre-Doctor her would have. "Help me keep him safe, and don't ask me any unnecessary questions."

Nodding assent, the Doctor squeezed her shoulder, pulling her into an embrace.

"We need to move him," the Doctor said quietly. "They are suspicious of him, even here. While I was out today I found another monastery with a man who, I think, knows more of your kind than any other we might find."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"We need to move him," the Doctor said quietly. "They are suspicious of him, even here. While I was out today I found another monastery with a man who, I think, knows more of your kind than any other we might find."

"Does he have a name?" Lily asked, tentative and concerned.

"They call him Emrys."

Lily pulled back and looked at the Doctor. For a moment she lost herself to memory, to a time long ago.


	5. Chapter 4

County Hampshire - Spring, 1670

Light glinted off the blades of the rapiers as Lily fended off Methos' attacks. They had been training for almost an hour, and her arms felt weak, but it was the sunlight flashing off the blades which became distracting.

"Focus," Methos said after a particularly close scrape near her shoulder.

Lily stumbled forward and spun to block the next attack, but Methos simply stood before her with his sword poised near her top of her head. "You're up here too much," he remarked.

Lily searched his eyes to see if he intended to teach or fight. She lowered her guard as she replied, "It's the sun. It's distracting. I can't see-"

Methos lowered his sword. "There are often times we cannot see when fighting. It hasn't been an excuse from you in a long time." He took a step toward her. "What is it?"

Lily bowed her head, motionless until Methos came closer, lifting her chin with his hand.

"Tell me," he said.

"You tell me not to dwell on the past when fighting. That we must be in the moment, always."

Methos nodded, not releasing her chin, or her gaze.

"It was him, wasn't it?"

"The thought came from nowhere. I remember…" She drifted and Methos moved his hand down, taking her sword. He clasped the hilts of both swords in one hand and inclined his head back toward the house. They began walking through the clearing as Lily continued.

"I used to watch the men practice sometimes, even when I was a child it fascinated me. Watching Duncan was… he wasn't the best swordsman, but he was powerful and somehow graceful as well. When his emotions were riled, so was his fighting. It made him unpredictable but also sloppy at times. I remember on one occasion he had been jibing with one of the other clansmen during a spar. The man, Colm, I think, made a disparaging remark about me, playful but not terribly kind, and Duncan - I could see the anger swell, even as he tried to control it. It was bright that day, unusually warm, and as they continued to fight I noticed Colm stumbling more, even though he hadn't been struck. Then I realized Duncan had started using his sword to reflect the sun into Colm's eyes whenever he could."

They walked over a small bridge to the main yard of the sprawling country house. Chickens and geese clucking and squaking as they moved past them.

"It was a rather underhanded trick, not something I thought Duncan would choose to do, but it worked. When they finished fighting, I kissed DUncan on his cheek. He was sweaty, smelling of damp wool, and still a bit riled, but pleased to have won. I told him I was proud of him. He shook his head, saying he should not have used such a trick but that Colm had been unkind to me and he could not let the slight pass. I laughed, telling him I appreciated his defense of my honour."

Lily stopped in the yard, just short of the short path to the door. "I do not know why that memory returned, I didn't know I still had it."

Methos turned back to her. "We cannot always control memories. I still have flashes from my past, thoughts and images so muddled I sometimes wonder if I dreamed half my life."

He reached out again, running his thumb across her cheek. HIs eyes searched hers for a moment before he stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled away, his expression resumed that of the instructor, and they continued to the door.

"But we cannot let flashes of remembrance, no matter how vivid, control us when fighting. There's no easy way to push them away, but we'll work on some. Your fighting style improves markedly, almost by the day, yet your emotions still lead you too often."

"I know," she replied as Methos opened the door for her and gestured her inside.

"Still," he continued as they moved through the foyer to the library which had been converted to their indoor training room (the house had three libraries, so one lost was not much of an inconvenience). "Your progress is remarkable and deserves some measure of reward."

Methos hung the swords on a wall and Lily noticed a large box on one of the far tables which had not been there before they left.

"I anticipated them being here sooner, but the shipments were running behind."

Lily followed Methos to the table, anxious and excited. The box was quite long, black, and inlaid with markings.

She looked closely at the designs on the box. "Japanese?" She asked.

"Your studies improve in many areas," he smiled. He clicked open the clasps holding the box closed and opened the case. Within lay a pair of long-bladed swords, their hilts a circular shape with a short guard and sheaths which curved to match the slight curve of the blades.

Methos reached forward and pulled one out, releasing it from the sheath. The blade almost shone and Lily marveled. "Katana," she said softly. Methos nodded as he took the blade and rested it in one hand, his other holding the hilt. He stood very straight before her, and Lily looked up, comprehending. She squared her shoulders as she turned to face him directly. They bowed to each other and he laid the sword in her hands, palms up to receive her gift. Lily grasped the hilt and took a step back. She looked up at Methos and he smiled. She turned the hilt in her hand and gave a few slashes at the air.

"It's beautiful," she said as Methos held the sheath out to her.

She replaced the sword in it, and returned it to the box. Turning back to Methos, she threw her arms around him.

He laughed as he returned her embrace.

"Thank you, Methos. For this… for everything."

Methos slid from her arms, taking her hands in his. "Anything for you, my love."

She smiled briefly, just before he bent his head down to kiss her.

Lily sighed as the memory faded, just a flash in time like so many others.

"Good?" The Doctor asked, his eyebrow raising.

"I believe so," she returned, a small smile appearing on her face.

The Doctor nodded. "I'll return tomorrow to arrange everything. We should have enough time to get him there before..."

LIly placed a shaking finger over his lips and shook her head. "Please don't say it."

The Doctor pulled her back into his arms and held her until the tremors subsided.


	6. Chapter 5

The poison took hold in Methos' system. After two days of pangs and fainting spells, Lily knew his death approached. Still, it could take hours for him to die, perhaps days knowing his stubbornness. As the poison worked its way through his body it would rob him of his faculties, laying waste to his mind, sight, and hearing. What state he might be in upon reviving was utterly unknown. She stared at him as he stumbled along in front of her, wanting to tell him everything and knowing nothing could help him. Almost nothing.

As the Doctor helped guide Methos toward the monastery he stole glances back at Lily, watching her asses the situation, witnessing her revelation and the resulting battle within. He'd already concluded there was only one way, yet now that the avenue approached he feared it almost as much for himself as for Lily.

Five hundred yards from their destination Methos collapsed, wailing in pain. Lily rushed to him, bending over and cradling his head. He took her hand, a habit he would later develop whenever he looked to her for comfort or sympathy, squeezing hard enough to force tears from Lily's eyes. Still, she kept her voice steady. "It's alright. We're almost there."

"It's too late. They won't be able to heal me." Methos writhed in pain, his eyes rolling back into his head. For a brief moment Lily thought he might lose consciousness. She looked up at the Doctor, standing over them, giving her space. Gazing into his eyes, she finally realized the Doctor knew. He knew what she was going to do before she did and he'd tried to find a way out of it. If the love of multiple lifetimes wasn't dying in her arms she might have kissed him for trying to spare her, but the realization, given the actual circumstance, caused her stomach to pitch and tears threatened to overcome her. Noticing this, the Doctor bowed his head to her and turned away. Having privacy to accomplish her task gave her strength, not much, but right now a little had to be enough.

She leaned into Methos' face, speaking softly but with authority. "Methos. Methos come back." His eyes rolled back and he looked into hers, the pain seeming to subside as long as they held contact. "It's going to be alright. I promise. Do you believe me?"

He nodded.

Still holding his hand, she used the other to pull a dagger from the belt around her waist. Keeping eye contact with him as long as she could, she leaned in closer and kissed him. Shocked, Methos tried to move back but found he didn't have the strength. Realizing he couldn't pull away, he then became aware he didn't want to. Her kiss felt right, like her lips were made for his. As they kissed, a tear fell onto Methos' cheek. Lily raised her right arm over his chest, pulled back out of the kiss. She whispered, "I love you."

The dagger hit its mark, striking Methos in the heart and driving the breath out of him. His eyes widened in shock before closing in pain. When his eyes closed, Lily twisted the blade in his chest, driving more life from him. Her other hand still held his, and she squeezed it gently.

Methos' eyes opened again, growing distant yet boring through her. "Why?"

"One day you'll understand. And I hope, forgive me."

"You said," He gasped, losing the last of his breath. "You said you loved me."

"I do. Always."

She kissed him again, tears now streaming down her face. Methos returned her kiss for a few seconds, grasping her fingers in his. Then all tension released. Lily slumped back onto the ground, sitting with Methos' limp hand in hers. She pulled the dagger from his chest. The Doctor turned back around, the dagger whizzing past him and sticking in a nearby tree. Lily screamed, a shattering, poisoned wail, trying to release her pain and guilt. She finally released Methos' hand as the Doctor bent over the body, picking it up and starting towards the monastery. Hoisting herself up and following, more from desire of staying close to Methos' body than anything else, Lily walked beside the Doctor towards the looming stone walls.

Methos lay on a slab, still dead, as Lily looked down on him. The Doctor stood a few paces back as Lily spoke to Emrys.

"You're certain he won't remember?"

The slight, intense man rubbed a hand across his chin. "I'm not positive, but the probability of him remembering anything of the last day or so is very low."

"He can't know, Emrys. From the moment he walked into those woods with us. If he knows the truth-"

"I understand."

"No, you can't. But you know enough. You know why I did it. He can never know who it was. Whatever you have to make up, he must never know."

"He will not."

"Thank you." Lily reached a hand out and he took it, bringing it briefly to his lips. He looked to the Doctor and nodded. "I may not fully comprehend all you have shared with me, but I know the force of your compassion."

"We know," the Doctor said softly. He then took Lily's hand and led her away.


	7. Chapter 6

"You knew..." Lily sat on the speed rail, staring at the computer screen on the Tardis which showed Emrys' monastery. Her focus penetrated the screen as if she might be able to see Methos through layers of stone by looking long enough. She hadn't been able to say goodbye before and knew now she needed to, not with words, but with her heart.

"Yes." Uttering that word was one of the most difficult admissions he'd ever had to make. He knew. Before she realised, he knew what the outcome would be, had to be. He didn't want her to do it but if there was any hope for the future, her future, she had to act. He saw he heart shatter with the epiphany, and now only hoped she could recover from the shock and pain, that she might forgive him for bringing her to this place and time, for not throwing her in the Tardis the minute he figured out what would eventually happen. He hoped she would forgive him, but feared it would instead create a rift between them just as he neared telling her how he truly felt.

"You still tried to prevent it," she said quietly.

"I hoped there was another way."

"If there had been-"

"I would have done it. For you I would have..."

"I know." Her voice was distant, sorrowful.

She meant to sound grateful but came across icy, and why shouldn't she? Her heart had frozen and he was the reason. He hadn't been able to change events, nor had he been able to do what she did: to take a life in order to save it.

"Doesn't help though, does it?"

The strain in his voice caused her to turn and look at him, and she saw it on his face.

"No, it does. You tried to find another way, to spare my feelings and his life. That means so much to me. You've shown me the universe. I've seen history made and re-made through our actions. I thought I'd seen it all. I thought whatever the risks I could do what was right, what needed to be done. But this..."

She turned back to the screen. By saying goodbye she also buried the truth. She loved Methos; the Doctor knew that from their first day together. Over time she'd accepted and grown to enjoy life with the Doctor and her feelings for him grew stronger the more they were together. They shared parts of themselves with each other they had rarely, if ever, shown to others, but they still had their secrets. With this, Lily knew one of her final secrets must be buried. She accepted Methos' past and vowed to keep it private, yet there were times with the Doctor, when he seemed to doubt himself, his ability to forgive or be worthy of self-sacrifice or even being cared for... those times she wanted to tell him. She knew much of his past, his regrets, especially of violence, that he still found difficult to overcome. Yet of all she knew thus far, none of it compared to Methos' history.

What the Doctor might think of Methos, and of Lily's acceptance, might gain his ultimate and complete trust or have the opposite effect. She didn't want to risk losing his trust, or whatever other benevolent feelings he might have toward her because try as she might, full of the knowledge that Methos was out there somewhere oblivious to her hundred-year 'vacation' waiting to hold her in his arms again, her affection for the Doctor was undeniable. She now loved him, fervently, passionately. If there was ever hope of her expressing that, she had to say goodbye to Methos, and bury his history with her farewell.

She forced herself to turn away from the screen and look at the Doctor. The expression on his face now an amalgam of empathy, sorrow, and pain. "I thought nothing could shock me. Not this way. I believed there was nothing else that could... destroy me."

He'd spent years watching Lily forge through battles, seeing her push on through the most dire circumstances hardly ever breaking down, and even when she did her recovery time astonished even him. He knew often the speed of her recovery was a performance. Yet still she amazed him with her ability to ride the waves of his life, to react and fight as she did without losing her passion and yet recover from loss and pain so quickly. Being a consummate actor himself, he knew what she must experience to cycle through her emotions so efficiently. This was different. He stood before her now, watching a part of her die.

Lily began crying, tears creeping slowly from the corners of her eyes and streaming down her face. The Doctor wanted to pull her to him, envelop her in his arms and hold her as long as she needed to be held, forever if that's what it took to calm her. As Lily cried more, burying her face in her hands and trying to refrain from sobbing and shaking the Doctor realised what she needed, and that she wouldn't ask for it. Like him, her strength could be a weakness and however much she needed saving she wouldn't ask for it. After everything she'd done for him, right up to forgiving him his latest sin, he realised for the first time the support she gave him could be reciprocated. She was strong, too strong for her own good, and that meant when something affected her this deeply she was in real danger of lasting damage unless someone helped her. More than feeling that he owed her for all she'd done in their time together, he loved her. Despite every voice within him warning against it. She made him better, as Rose had done, Donna and Martha as well, but unlike them Lily had been shot, stabbed, lasered, poisoned, electrocuted... and she still lived, as beautiful and powerful as the day he met her.

Failing to conjure the right words to comfort her, the Doctor followed his instinct (something he cautioned himself against when it came to her). He walked to her, pulled her hands from her face and kissed her forehead. Wrapping his arms around her, Lily's feet slid to the floor and she pressed herself into his body as if she were trying to burrow inside him for safety. The Doctor smoothed his hands over her hair and brought his head down to rest on top of hers. Lily moved her arms around his waist and clung to his form.

As her sobbing slowed and breath began to steady she let loose the words she was trying to hold in. "I did this for him. All of it. To protect him because I couldn't bear to lose him again. He may never know it. I lost him when I left, and now... Will you take me somewhere?"

The Doctor sprang into action. He couldn't undo this trip and he might never undo the pain he inadvertently caused, but he could do this. He could take her away to a thousand other places, wherever she wished to go, and try to make up for this abysmal voyage. "Where did you have in mind?"

Throwing switches and turning dials, Lily moved away from the frantic, pilot-mode Doctor as he rattled off a few places they could visit. Ignoring his well-intentioned attempts at distracting her, she stared at him intently until he stopped and turned to her for an answer.

"Bordeaux. 1996. March 14th."

For a moment he stared at her, wanting to ask why she chose that time and place, but not believing he had the right to ask. Right now whatever she wanted (within reason, and perhaps beyond reason) he would willingly oblige. "Right, then." He took her hand, caressing it for a moment before pulling her toward the control center. "Let's go."

She wanted to smile, wanted to thank him for acting without question, but her tumultuous thoughts wouldn't allow her softer emotions until she knew. Nonetheless, she joined the Doctor at the controls as they began to fly through space and time to revisit one of the most pivotal moments in her life.

Lily stood at a distance, knowing she couldn't risk getting too close to either Methos or herself. Under any other circumstance the Doctor would have forbidden her getting remotely close to such a pivotal event in her life. But she didn't tell him why she wanted to come here, and he hadn't asked until they were walking through these woods. Lily amazed herself at her easy recollection, but memories and dreams of this place served her well and she found the exact area without difficulty.

The Doctor stood just behind her, restraining every impulse to get her away from this place. Her disturbing silence and hollow eyes kept him from exercising his impulses. He couldn't stand that look in her eyes. He'd never seen her more damaged, more on the edge of collapse, and if this kept her from more pain - if there was even chance this might help heal her - he had to let it happen. He only hoped she still possessed enough sense to stay distant and not interfere. What little he'd been able to extract from her about this place and time worried him. She mentioned this is where she'd 'saved him' the first time, and needed to be sure it still happened. But what if it didn't?

Lily's body stiffened as Methos entered her sight line, walking through the trees in the moonlight, his appearance just as she remembered.

Methos froze, his eyes scanning the area. From their position, Lily knew he wouldn't sense or see her and the Doctor. Still, the Doctor's hand sought hers as Methos lips moved. Lily smoothed her thumb over the Doctor's hand, assuring him both of her intention to stay and that she would not run toward Methos... yet.

Lily, the other Lily, emerged from another cluster of trees. The Lily standing with the Doctor thought she could actually feel the Doctor's eyes widen. As the Lily in front of Methos spoke with him, the Doctor whispered to the Lily before him. "Lily, whatever happens-"

"I can't change it. I know. Not this moment. But I have to know what I did... that it needed to happen."She turned to face him, pulling his gaze away from the other version of her now having the single most important conversation of her life.

"What's happening now, and you have to trust me on this, it doesn't just affect me, or him. I picked this time because I know what he was before this, and who he was after and what might happen if he - if I didn't do the right thing."Before the Doctor answered, Lily turned back to watch herself and Methos.

"Lily."

"Shhh." She held a hand up to stop him speaking, and to warn him not to interfere. If ever she had a breaking point, this was it. What she would do if this moment changed she didn't know, but she knew the Doctor wouldn't approve. Yet knowing that would not stop her from doing whatever necessary to save Methos, here and now. She watched as her earlier self raised Methos' arm, placing his blade at her neck. She felt the Doctor move behind her, his arm hovering at her side. She held her breath, waiting, wishing she could be close enough to see into Methos' eyes. The pause which once seemed to take an eternity seemed double that now with her as a mere observer. For the first time in a long while she wished to go back, to be with her Methos and no one else, taking whatever consequence came with refusal of traveling with the Doctor. She hated herself for that thought, knowing her life had been enriched and blessed in innumerable ways by the Doctor and their travels. But seeing this moment she relived the emotions of it and wished, briefly, that the past five years could be erased and she could be looking into those eyes again. Then she no longer had to wait for the results of her 'handy work' (she knew the word, but after all the deaths she'd caused could not reconcile herself to think of what she did to Methos as killing).

Lily saw, and she knew. Methos pushed aside the sword with one arm, drawing past-Lily to him with the other and kissing her. Present-Lily remembered that kiss and watched its evolution now, gaining passion and intensity just as she remembered. Turning back towards the Tardis, she noted the Doctor's face; his eyes lit up with comprehension as the fear began dying away. His arm, and his whole body, frozen in shock that had yet to release. Lily took his hand, and pulled on it for him to follow her. As she began walking, the Doctor followed, glancing back once more to see past-Lily and Methos separate, unwittingly inflamed with jealousy at the sight of Methos smiling down at Lily and looking, in that brief moment, perfectly happy. Present-Lily kept walking, tugging the Doctor with her as a shadow of Methos' smile spread across her face.


End file.
